


Desperado

by bleedingrose0688



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-05-08 06:31:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14688447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedingrose0688/pseuds/bleedingrose0688
Summary: Someone's hit the reset button and everything's gone to hell in a hand basket. With the exception of his brother, Daryl Dixon could care less about what happens to those around him, however he can't seem to take his mind off the one person who actually gave a damn about him. He hasn't seen her in 3 years and is fueled with a need to know if she made it. Rated M for language.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This is a re-working of something I was working on previous that I had called If I Could Turn Back Time. I was not satisfied with where it was going and decided to scrap the entire thing and start from scratch. It is still a follow-up/companion piece to Decisions, decisions as told from Daryl's perspective however this is going to start pre-season 1 and go from there.

** Chapter 1 **

****

“Still lookin’ for her ain’t ya? Man, I’m tellin’ ya she’s as good as dead!  She was smart I’ll give her that and she followed ya ‘round like a lost pup but she weren’t smart enough to live through all this!  I went along with ya on this one baby brother when this shit storm started but sooner or later ya gotta cut your losses, she’s dead and the only thing you can hope for these days is that someone put her outta her misery before she turned.”

Merle’s been sayin’ the same thing for weeks, sounding like a damn broken record but he’s got a point, sooner or later I’m gonna have to make the call.

Still can’t believe that the world, more or less, has ended and the dead are walking. There were reports on the news when it first started happening; in the beginning it was just a story here or there but eventually it blew up into widespread pandemonium.  No one knows how it happened, what started it, all we know is that the National Guard was called in a few weeks ago and they started slaughtering people in the streets.  We weren’t there when it happened but we could hear ‘em dropping bombs on Atlanta.

Me and Merle were out on a hunting trip when it all started; we just finished field dressing a nice 13-point buck and were tossing it into the back of my truck when one of those…things…came stumbling outta the woods. Naturally Merle was having fun with it until it tried to take a chunk outta his arm.  He unloaded a couple of rounds into it, right in the chest, but it just kept on coming.  Merle had it at arm’s length trying to fight it off; I remember coming around from the other side of the truck with my crossbow and was hollerin’ at it…told it to back the fuck off before I fired a shot in the back of its head.  It wouldn’t stop and I was left with no choice but to keep my word.  It fell with a thud, the head sliding along the shaft of the arrow.

We high-tailed it outta there and got back to our trailer in record time. When I turned the news on the cameras were showing nothing but utter chaos and panic; people trampling over each other in the streets, looting, rioting, police throwing tear gas.  Her house wasn’t too far from where they were reporting, matter of fact her next door neighbor was seen on camera stumbling around and took a nice sized chunk outta the neck of one reporter.  It was like something outta _The Blair Witch_ with the camera dropping…just kept recording until they cut the feed off.

Panic set in knowing she was in the middle of all that. It had been close to three years since the divorce was finalized, three years since I last saw her but even if she didn’t want me around I needed to know that she was alive, that she wasn’t bit.

Since this all started it’s been a hunt to find her and the only indication I had that she was alive was when I finally got to her house and found it devoid of some of her things like clothes but more importantly her fucking furballs weren’t there. She had ‘em long before she met my redneck ass and made it more than clear that no matter what she’d die before she ever let anything happen to her animals.  The only other clue I had to go off of was when I went over to her parent’s house and found it just as empty.

Been lookin’ for her ever since.

“C’mon now boy, quit dragging your fucking feet and pick up the pace. You see these here tracks?  They ain’t from the biters, means people gotta be close-by.  You remember the plan, don’t ya?  We go in, make nice, and when they lay their sweet lil heads to go beddy bye we take as much as we can and get the hell outta Dodge.  By the time they wake up they won’t know what hit ‘em.”

That’s been the only plan we’ve ever had since this all started. How in the fuck did I let Merle talk me into this shit?  Why did I ever fucking listen to him in the first place?  Why do I _keep_ going along with these ideas of his?

“May not be a bad idea to walk up to the front door this time, remember what happened the last time we tried going round the back? You damn near ended up with a bullet in the ass.”

“Suppose ya may got a point there baby brother. Wouldn’t be a bad idea to hang back and see what we’re walking in on first.  You go round that way towards the east, I’ll head west, we’ll meet back here at sunset and see what’s what.”

I did as that asshole asked knowing that if I put up any sort of resistance we’d give ourselves away when Merle started laying into me. Quickly and quietly, I moved through the woods taking care not to step on any large branches, my crossbow was at the ready should any of those things (biters as Merle calls ‘em) show their ugly faces.  Being up here though, away from the city, we’ve been lucky to not have seen any.

Approaching the tree line I spotted a tan colored RV with a single brown line going across the side, a large ‘w’ on the passenger side door, and a strip of the same brown color along the bottom. An old man perched atop the rust bucket was seated in a lawn chair and an umbrella was set up to keep as much of the heat off him as possible.  From what I could see, he was holding a pair of binoculars to his face and was scanning the horizon for something, perhaps anything that moved (alive or dead) or was keeping track of where his people were.

There were a few others busying themselves around the self-made camp; a couple of the women were doing laundry, a couple of the guys were busy chopping wood. One bald, fat fuck sat on his ass while his woman kept looking over her shoulder.  Another woman was seated on a stump, hunched over a card table with a pair of-

Shit!

Slithering back through the trees to where Merle and I had split up, I waited until he brought his ass back. Chances are he didn’t even check anything out, hell he probably only got rid of me so he can go get himself high on which drug came outta that gallon bag he always carried.  The sun was just starting to set by the time Merle dragged his stoned ass back to the meeting point.

“Ya see anything?” his words came out slurred and his feet were all over the damn place.

“Counted at least nine of ‘em, they got at least two kids. We’ve done a lot of fucked up shit but we can’t-”

“You’ll do what I say, ya got it?! Found a pair of blondies down by the water washing clothes, would be nice to have something clean for a change.”

“Makes it at least eleven or so in the camp, Lord only knows how many others there are. You sure this camp’s a good place to hit?  They got kids.”

Before I knew what happened I found myself on the ground, the taste of copper on my tongue, and Merle standing over me with rage in his eyes. Bending over, he lifted me ease from the ground by my shirt collar.

“You listen to me little brother and ya listen good, _we_ _are_ gonna make nice with those people and _we_ _will_ wipe them out clean, ya hear me?  This is about survival of the fittest and we Dixons were built for this world.  It’s finally ours for the taking and I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let ya pussy out on me.  Ya ain’t married no more so quit acting like ya care.  Ya had no problem calling her all those names and ya couldn’t wait for the papers to be signed.  She’s as good as dead and so are they, may as well take what’s ours and leave ‘em to the biters.  Now c’mon, let’s scare up some dinner, we get enough squirrels maybe we can waltz into that camp with an offering.”

He dropped me unceremoniously back to the ground and went on his way, like nothing ever happened. Rustling in the trees had me on high alert; grabbing up my bow I scampered outta sight just before a familiar face came into view.  I wish I could say it was my ex but my anger was coming to a rapid boil when I saw him.  Of all the people who ended up surviving the initial shockwave, fucking Shane Walsh had to be one of ‘em.  Maybe there’s a slim chance that if he’s alive he got her outta there just before things got too bad.

“C’mon out, we got a camp if you’re hungry, tents if you need a place to sleep. Whoever you are, I’m a sheriff’s deputy, not gonna hurt ya.”

I couldn’t help but sneer at him the more he spoke but I kept quiet until he finally gave up and headed back in the direction of the camp. Merle ain’t gonna be none too happy when he sobers up enough to find out about this.  That douchebag put him in jail so many times it ain’t funny and who knows how many times he’s tried to lock me up.

Stepping out from the tree I was hidden behind, I checked to make sure there was an arrow nocked and ready to go. Almost immediately a squirrel darted across my path, but it wasn’t quick enough.  Pulling the trigger, the arrow let loose and my first squirrel of many was impaled to the ground.  Aluminum cans rustled not too far off letting me know that Merle was back at our camp probably doing nothing while I did all the hunting.  Stalking towards my first kill of the day, I set out in search of more (squirrel stew is better than nothing).

By the time I was done with my hunt I had about a dozen or so squirrels strung up and Merle was nearly done tearing down our camp. Everything was thrown into the back of my truck except for Merle’s bike.  No doubt he was probably gonna ride into town and make everyone praise the Dixon name before they start to curse it.

“We’ll head out the way we came and go the long way ‘round, taking the gravel road from the highway and following it down to the quarry. It’ll take longer but we’ll be at their front door before we know it.  We’ll have to keep the lights down so we don’t attract too much attention.”

“Something ya need to know before we head in there.”

“Ya found your stray little pussy? Halleluiah!  I can finally quit listening to your whining!”

“Not exactly.”

“The fuck does that mean, ‘not exactly?’ She’s either there or she ain’t!”

“After ya knocked me on my ass and stalked off one of ‘em came through, must’ve heard your loud ass mouth.”

“So what, it’s not like we know who they are; we don’t know them, they don’t know us.”

“The one that came looking was Shane fucking Walsh.”

“Deputy Douchebag?”

“She ain’t gonna be with him but maybe he knows where she went.”

“He ain’t gonna tell ya shit even _if_ he knew anything.”

Fuck…hate it when he’s got a point…

“Just try not to do anything stupid that’ll get us kicked outta the group; Walsh knows us better than any of those useless know-it-alls, if he even suspects that we’re up to something he’ll be trying to convince ‘em in no time flat. Means ya gotta keep a lid on that mouth of yours around those kids…from the looks of it none of ‘em got a sense of humor so no sex jokes either.”

“Ya mean no fun.” Merle grumbled, climbing onto his bike and turning the ignition over.

After gently laying my bow in the back on top of some tattered blankets we took from the last camp we robbed blind I wrenched the door of the truck open and climbed inside, quickly putting it into gear to follow Merle out along the make-shift path that we made. His lone headlight shone brightly against the white gravel road as we crept through the night.  Traveling through the dark with only the stars started bringing back memories of the times when I’d take her camping and we’d lay out in the grass in silence until she fell asleep.

It didn’t take as long as I thought it would to get to the other side where the group we saw were set up; the noise from Merle’s bike was enough to put everyone on edge and the rattle from my muffler didn’t help none. Once everything was shut off and it grew quiet the group of strangers we surmised to be no more than eleven had grown to what seemed to be twice that much.  Along with the two kids I had spotted earlier there were two more huddled close to their parents: a boy and a girl clutching a doll to her chest.

“Not another damn step or I swear I’ll blow your head clean off your shoulders, do you understand me?”

It took every fiber of my being to not stalk across the campsite and just hit Walsh in the face but a warning look from Merle was the only thing keeping me in check, that and the possibility that he might know where she is.

“Cool your jets there cowboy, ain’t gonna hurt nobody, just saw your fire and came to check it out is all.”

“Jesus Christ, Dixon, never thought I’d see your ugly face again.”

Shane slowly began to lower his gun, the tension remained palpable but it lessened the lower the shotgun got.

“We ain’t trying to cause no trouble, if you’ll have us, we’ll pull our weight and stay outta everyone’s hair. Even brought a welcome gift; Daryl get it outta the back would ya?”

Reluctantly, I again listened to my brother and got the string of squirrels out of the bed of the truck, slinging the flimsy piece of rope over my shoulder then made my back to where Merle was standing hoping that he didn’t cause any problems in my short absence. As I approached the two were exchanging words but no threats were being made, which is quite the feat for Merle since he always threatened to beat Walsh’s ass the next time he saw him.  Dropping the squirrels in the center of the invisible line that divided us I stood on the side to wait and see what would happen.  One of the kids squealed in delight at the sight, excitedly exclaiming that they could eat meat for a change.

It was practically a unanimous decision at that point that we were a part of this band of ill-equipped misfits. Merle surprisingly volunteered to skin the kill in the morning and show everyone how to make a proper stew out of them but I could feel Shane staring at us with mistrust.  Regardless of how he felt about us being here I needed to know if she was dead or alive.  Pulling my gear out from the back of the truck I pitched our tent near the tree line and laid out our respective cots.  Upon returning to the truck to get the last of our stuff I saw someone rifling through our stuff; rage instantly filled my being and as I latched on to the collar of the perpetrator I quickly realized it was one of the kids and had to change my attitude real quick.

“Didn’t your mama ever teach ya not to go through other people’s shit? Go on back to where ya belong ‘fore ya find out what real whoopin’ is!”

“I’m sorry…just never seen one of those before. What is it?”

The little bastard somehow managed to climb onto the tailgate and dragged my bow from one end of the truck to the other. Another wave of rage was about to surface when the old man I saw earlier showed up to keep the peace.  Laying a hand on my shoulder he whispered in my ear that his dad was dead and to take it easy on him.

“Ain’t ya ever seen a crossbow before?”

He shook his head ‘no’ and continued to stare at it in fascination, cautiously reaching out to try and run his fingers along the trigger guard. I quickly grabbed his hand to prevent him from touching it any further then whirled him around to give him a sharp smack since his mom apparently wasn’t very good at doing her damn job.  Almost immediately Shane was hounding my ass, threatening to kick us out before morning if I ever touched that kid again.

“Maybe he’ll learn his fucking lesson about touching other people’s shit. Don’t give a damn if his daddy’s dead or not, it ain’t his to be touching on.”

“Is that the one Claire gave ya?”

“Only thing I have left of her, ain’t seen her since the divorce was finalized three years ago. Was kinda hoping that you’d tell me she was here.”

“I was in King when it all went down; my best friend died in a hospital bed and that boy and his mama became my priority after that, I had to get them out. Sorry but I wasn’t even thinking about Claire when this all happened.  How the fuck do you know if she’s even still alive?”

“I just do. Tell that kid I ever catch him snooping around our shit again he’ll get more than his ass popped once.”

Stalking towards our tent I couldn’t help but wonder where she could’ve gone but at least I knew she wasn’t here. Flopping down onto the cot, I fell into an uneasy sleep with my bow resting across my stomach in case someone or something other than Merle tried to come in.  Intermittent memories began to haunt me once more but they always culminated into a single moment: the two of us lying in bed talking about our shitty days, one hand combing fingers through my hair and the other holding a book until I finally had enough and take it away from her.  She’d laugh and commented on how I always need attention.  Just before she’d shut the light off she would concede and sing me off to sleep.  It was our song she’d always sing.

Looking back on it I can see why she wanted that to be our song. 

“Why don’t you come to your senses, something, something, something, you better let somebody love you before it’s too late.”


	2. Chapter 2

** Chapter 2 **

****

_“If the world ended tomorrow would you miss me? I know we said ‘til death do us part, but if the world ended tomorrow and I died, would you miss me?”_

_“We did say ‘til death do us part…guess I would kinda miss ya. I’d still have Merle but if I ever thought about getting laid probably have to pay for it, also have to go back to eating shitty half-cooked meals.  Would you miss me?”_

_“Yeah, I would.”_

_It was her idea to come up to my granddaddy’s cabin for the week; when she came home from work last Friday she announced that she took off this whole week and got her dad’s okay for me to take off as well. Her running the office meant that she approved my time off (you can imagine the look of surprise I had when she said I’m not going in at all the next week).  It was our last night up here and she wanted to camp out under the stars again.  Unfortunately for me I told her to bring a bottle of whiskey and she hasn’t shut her damn mouth yet.  Then again, whiskey makes her clothes fall off after five or six shots.  After a brief silence I felt her breathing slow as she started falling asleep but I wasn’t ready for her to go to sleep yet._

_“World ended tomorrow ain’t gonna let nothing happen to ya, you’re a Dixon now and Dixons stick together. You know enough to get ya by that even if something happened and we got split up we’d always find each other. If by the time I found ya, you turned into some ugly skank I’d have the decency to put ya out of your misery.”_

_“Would you turn into a lil bitch while you did it?” She teased, smiling against me as her hand roamed over my chest._

_“Dunno, no one ever gave two shits about me before you came along. If I did it’d only be when no one else is around.”_

_We continued our game of 21 questions until she finally let loose a yawn, dreading the reality that this was our last night here for a while. Truthfully, I’m thankful that she talked me into coming up here since we both needed a getaway but I wish I could’ve taken her someplace nicer and more exciting.  She knew when she said ‘yes’ that I’d never be able to afford to give her the life she deserved; maybe one day things’ll change and we could have it all._

I awake after a few hours to the sound of the zipper to our tent carefully being pried open; the hairs on the back of neck instantly stood up and the first thought that entered my mind was Shane trying to lure one of those biters into our tent while we’re sleeping so he could be hailed the hero after he killed us.

“You wanna put that thing down? You’re gonna put someone’s eye with it.”

“Who the hell are you? The fuck do ya want?”  I kept my bow trained on the intruder despite their request.

“It’s Andrea, just coming to get the laundry unless you enjoy wearing those filthy, bloody clothes all day, every day.”

I couldn’t stop my eye from twitching the longer Blondie kept talking (must’ve been one of the ones Merle was talking about yesterday). Still not fully trusting the pair of tits in front of me, I kept my bow aimed at her head and reached under my cot with one hand to pull my duffel out from underneath.  Tossing it at the entryway I waited until she had it in her hand and her back was turned before attempting to relax.

“Ya know, we really do appreciate those squirrels you brought last night but you have no right to hit a child that’s not yours. Lori’s already throwing a fit that if you ever do that again she’ll wring your neck.” She said, turning back and setting my bag down.

“The bitch ever teaches her brat to keep his hands off other people’s shit he won’t be getting in trouble. Takes a village to raise a kid lady, no one tells me what I can and cannot do.”  Swinging my legs over the edge of the cot I laid the bow across the bed and set about finding my gear for another hunt.

“Carl’s at that age where he’s curious about everything. Can I ask what motivated you to slap him last night?”

“Difference between a slap and getting ya ass popped. Hell when I was his age I knew better than to touch something that wasn’t mine.”

“So what’d he do? What’d he touch that’s so damn important that it earned him being ‘popped’ as you put it?”

“Ain’t none of your goddamn business what he did, you really wanna know you can ask the kid yourself. ‘Sides, don’t ya got laundry to do?”

“Don’t have to be so gruff.” She muttered before I finally heard her picking the duffel up off the ground and leaving the tent.

Picking up my bow, I slung it over my shoulder then double-checked that my knife was secure in its sheath; leaving the confines of the tent I found Merle running his mouth with a few of the others, showing them how to skin the squirrels.  Naturally Shane was over there, no doubt keeping an eye on Merle to make sure he didn’t do anything that would warrant us getting kicked out.  I found a nearby stump and made myself as comfortable as possible and pulled my knife out along with the sharpening stone (if anything needed to be done out there I have to make sure this thing stays sharp).

“Lady if I were you I wouldn’t be waltzing over there with an attitude, especially since _HE’S GOTTA KNIFE IN HIS HAND!_ ” Merle’s voice called out in warning.

Jesus H. Christ, why don’t these people just leave me the fuck alone?!

“You the one who put your hands on my son last night?”

“Hey! It ain’t my job to keep an eye on the lil bastard, sure as shit ain’t my job to be laying down the law on him neither!  Do _your_ fucking job and keep a goddamn leash on that kid!  I ever catch him snooping around our shit again I’ll-” I was just about to deliver a promise when Merle cut in with Shane hot on his heels to break up the confrontation.

“I warned ya little lady not go near him, now you done woke the beast. C’mon baby brother, let’s just walk away, ya know let cooler heads prevail and all that shit.  Go on now, off to the woods with ya before I gotta take ya out there myself.”

“Lori, I told ya last night that I handled it and Carl promised not to go near their stuff anymore. If he gets bitten by the curiosity bug he knows to come find me and I’ll explain it to him.  He also knows now that he needs to stay away from these two, they’re just too volatile right now.  Wouldn’t be a bad idea to ask Carol and Morales to keep their kids at a distance also, just until everyone gets used to each other.”

“That piece of trash put his hands on _my_ son, Shane-”

“I know and I warned him not to do it again, and he won’t, will ya Dixon?”

In a fit of rage, I jumped up from the stump and landed a punch right into Merle’s jaw (it was all I could do to keep from lunging at the dumb bitch or hitting Deputy Douchebag). For the sake of appearances Merle laughed it off but I knew I’d be in for it whenever I decided to come back.  Shoving my knife back into its sheath and the sharpening stone back into my front pocket, I took off into the woods listening to the voices die off the further I got.

Stalking through the tall brush as fast as I could I left the camp until I found myself back in the place where we were at yesterday. Pausing for a moment I waited until I was certain that no one was following me before releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding.  Checking to make sure my bow was still strapped to my back and my knife was still on my hip, I proceeded through the trees in search of something to kill (whether it be beast or biter).  It didn’t take long before I came across a set of fox tracks and took off in the direction they were heading.

After following the tracks for what seemed like hours, I found a small alcove where the creature may have been calling home. Seeking shelter behind a large rock I waited to see if anything would come out or cross along the path.  Luckily I didn’t have to wait long before something came out of the hole; it wasn’t the fox I was hoping for but I’d take a coyote over nothing.  Bringing my crossbow around, I let the strap fall from my shoulder; raising it to eye level I waited until my shot was lined up and squeezed the trigger, releasing the arrow straight into the animal’s chest.  It fell where it stood and thrashed around for a minute or two before it stilled.

Coming around from the rock I walked up to the animal, nudging it with my foot to make sure it was dead; when it was confirmed I yanked the arrow from its side and reloaded. Fishing some spare rope from one of my pockets, I strung the animal up and went on my way in search of something else.  Under normal circumstances I would’ve field dressed the damn thing but in my haste I left my backpack in the tent back at camp.

It was going on nightfall when I decided it was best to head back with my catch: a coyote, six squirrels, and four rabbits. The closer I got to the camp the louder it got, no doubt Merle was shooting his mouth off trying to make friends but it was noisier than what I was used to.  One thing I miss about Claire was that she enjoyed the quiet as much as I did.  The only reason why she stayed at her shitty ass job was because people, generally, left her alone (her phone never rang and she didn’t have to deal with too many people).  When she’d get home the only sounds that broke the silence were coming from the t.v. or her cats if they were in one of their moods.

“Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in! What’d ya bring back for us O’ Mighty Hunter?” Merle cackled as I came crunching my way out of the woods.

I said nothing as I tossed the carcasses towards the fire and headed back into our tent. Inside I found my duffel empty and the clothes I had in there folded, laying neatly on the cot.  Picking the stack up I shoved everything back into the bag and dropped it on the floor.  Taking a rag out from my back pocket I flopped down onto the cot and proceeded to clean off as much of the blood from my arrows as the remaining light would allow.  Outside it was a laughing fest; more people were praising the Dixon name for a fresh meat supply, some of the kids were even exclaiming ‘ew’ (must’ve seen Thumper on a string and his guts hanging out).

The day’s events left me nothing but tired and once the blood was (mostly) cleaned off my arrows I picked my sore feet off the ground and laid down on the cot to try and get some sleep in. A fresh arrow was already nocked, ready to go when I shut my eyes, my mind drifting off wondering where she could be, if she was hurt, or worse, dead.  I was just starting to finally fall into an uneasy sleep when a voice called out.

“Knock, knock…”

Fucking shoot me, just fucking shoot me!

Cracking an eye open I waited for whoever was on the other side to make themselves known or leave. I swear these people are just asking to be killed off…kids touching shit that ain’t theirs, people coming and going any time they want thinking they have a right to enter someone’s personal space.

“I brought you some dinner, not much but it’s more than what we’ve had in days. My little girl, Sophia, she wanted me to tell you ‘thank you’ and she wanted me to give this to you,” a woman (I think it was a woman) with a butch haircut came in with a plate, laying it down on the floor of the tent then produced a crude drawing her kid made and laid it down next to the plate.  “One of our people went into the city to find supplies, he should be back tomorrow; your brother volunteered to go with a larger group when he gets back to try and scavenge for more.”

“Now I got something to wipe my ass with,” I huffed out, “get lost, don’t want ya here anyhow. Tell the rest of those pussies if Merle’s going on scavenger hunt to make sure the rest of the group that goes with him are white otherwise they’ll have to deal with his racist ass all day.”

The woman left looking fearful and defeated; when I was sure that she was a safe distance away and Merle was still keeping himself busy, I got up from my cot and picked up the plate as well as the drawing. From the looks of it someone overcooked the rabbit so it was gonna be tough to chew.  The drawing on the other hand was nothing more than a smiling stick figure with a simple bow and arrow standing next to a fire.  The stick arm was holding some kind of head that had x’s for eyes.  Folding the paper up, I shoved it to the bottom of my duffel bag and began to work on the plate of meat.

Must’ve been hungrier than I thought because I polished the plate off in record time; dumping it outside the tent I caught sight of everyone gradually leaving the campfire to turn in for the night. The old man from yesterday was returning to his perch on top of the RV, the women and kids were taking off in the opposite direction towards the tents, Walsh was in (another) heated exchange with Merle and I knew he was gonna be in a foul mood by the time he made his way back to our tent.

Disappearing back into the tent I laid down on my cot and got comfortable; again my bow was laying across my stomach just in case I needed to use it sometime during the night. I was just starting to doze off when Merle came bursting through the flap angry as a hornet.

“The hell were you thinking hitting me in the jaw this morning? You lookin’ for a reason to get us kicked out?”

“Fuck off and go to sleep, ain’t in the mood to listen to your bullshit tonight.”

“Now you listen to me you lil shit!” I forgot how quickly Merle could move when he was angry, before I could think to react he had his hand wrapped around my throat and a fire in his eye that I recognized all too well. “You even _think_ about doing some shit like that again I will not hesitate to put you in your place, ya hear me?!  In the morning you’re gonna apologize to that kid and his mama then you’re gonna disappear for a while and cool off.  I’m going into the city in a couple of days on a run and see how these dumbasses operate without Deputy Douchebag giving orders.  Think you can manage on your own until I get back?”

I managed to choke out a ‘yes’ before I found myself able to breathe again. A rush of air filled my lungs as I sat up on the cot, coughing loud and hard.  Despite my chest feeling like it was on fire I stormed out of the tent with my bow strapped to my back for a smoke (not sure which’ll kill me first, smokes or the dead).

“Hey son-”

“Fuck off old man, ya ain’t the boss of me!”

Stomping off into the woods I trekked off deep into the darkness until the only sounds around me were the crickets and cicadas. As I made a quick scan of my surroundings I found a tree that was more than large enough to hide me in case one of those biters came along; sliding against the trunk I made myself as comfortable as possible.  Letting my head fall back against the bark I took a deep breath and let it out slowly as I tried to remember what Claire would tell me after me and Merle would have a blow up like that.  Unfortunately I couldn’t recall anything she said.

After a few minutes I fished my near empty pack from my shirt pocket and the lighter from my pants pocket. Shaking the pack I pulled out a cigarette only to discover it was my last one (here’s to hoping Merle’ll find some when he goes out).  With a sigh I crumpled up the empty pack and tossed it to the ground; using my hand to hide the flame of the lighter I lit my last cigarette and took a deep inhale of the nicotine laced paper.  I only held onto the smoke for a brief moment before letting it escape into the night.

_“Ms. Dixon, because the deed of trust is solely in your name, I am awarding you full ownership of the house and its contents with the exception of Mr. Dixon’s belongings that he brought with him prior to the marriage. I will submit an order to the sheriff’s office and Mr. Dixon, you have five days to remove your belongings from the home.  I am also ordering that the rings b-”_

_We stood on opposite sides of the courtroom while the judge was finalizing the details of our divorce. I didn’t have much in the house and I was grateful the judge was letting me clear what was left of my stuff even though I had told him last time it wasn’t necessary but I knew the rings would be a sore subject.  The crazy bitch didn’t even let him finish before she ripped the jewelry from hand and tossed them at me; I couldn’t stop myself from flinching as one hit my shoulder and the other fell near my shoe._

_“And I hope you rot in hell asshole!”_

_“One more outburst Ms. Dixon and I’ll have held in contempt, do you understand me?”_

_She huffed out what sounded like a ‘yes’ but all I could think about was getting shit-faced drunk when this was finally over and done with. Ever since Merle saw her getting into that guy’s truck and go to the motel just on the edge of town all I could think about was getting far away from that cheating whore and moving on with my life.  Hell, her daddy already fired me when he found out there was trouble in paradise._

_“Now that the matter of the rings is cleared up is there anything else either of you would like to say before I have each of you sign the divorce decree?”_

_“Nope.” I said flatly, approaching the bench to sign off on the order._

_Once my name was signed to the document, I was dismissed from the room and made my way out, checking my pockets to ensure my keys were in the left and my cigarettes were in the right. As I passed by her I could feel the hurt and disappointment that radiated off of her but she was no longer my problem._

_“Queen of Diamonds.”_

_Her words stopped me in my tracks, my hands poised on the doors ready to push them out when the words fell from her lips. I knew they were words from an Eagle’s song; she told me what it meant once before but at the moment the meaning was lost on me._

“Queen of Diamonds…that royal bitch whooped my ass then mopped the floor with it like ya said she would. Queen of Hearts is always the best bet.  Maybe if I’d have listened to you a lil more…always did want what I couldn’t have.”

Sighing, I snubbed the remainder of the cigarette out hoping to make it last until we found a gas station or something. Once more I let my head fall back against the bark of the tree, my eyes drifting shut as a thought flickered to life: I had everything – a roof over my head, food on my plate, money in the bank, someone who didn’t beat on me, someone who (dare I say) I may have loved – I threw it all away out of anger and fooled myself into thinking I could get something better.

The Queen of Diamonds sure knows how to deal a low blow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry it's taken me a while to get this updated, this chapter's been kicking my ass since I started it but I finally got the kinks worked out. Warning: these are the Dixons from season 1 so racist remarks/thoughts may be used. Let me know what you think on your way out. Also, looking for a beta if anyone is available to lend a hand.

** Chapter 3 **

****

A rustling in the trees and the sound of a branch snapping under a foot had my eyes flying open and my hands searching frantically for my bow; immediately I jumped to my feet to scan my surroundings to find the source of the disturbance. The culprit came out of the woods just as I raised my bow.

 

“Didn’t mean to startle you son, started getting a little worried about ya when you didn’t come back last night. Your brother made it more than clear that you can take care of yourself but I wanted to see for myself.”

 

The breath that I was holding escaped when I realized it was just that old fart. Lowering my bow, I fell back to the ground and resumed my position against the tree.  I took a moment to just breathe; allowing the tension in my shoulders to deflate just a little then pulled the remainder of my last cigarette out for a morning hit of nicotine.

 

God, I wish I had another pack. Claire always kept an extra pack in the truck for me but I went through that whole fucking pack the first day shit started getting bad.

 

“Why don’t you come back to camp and get some breakfast? Glenn got back late last night, he’s got a couple of cans of hash heating up and I’ve got a pot of coffee brewing in the RV.”

 

“Pass, I’ll be fucking fine. Back in a couple of days, maybe scare up a deer or something to bring back.  ‘Sides, y’all should be more concerned about keeping an eye on that brat.”

 

“Carl? He didn’t mean any harm, just curious is all.  But I supposed you’re right, we need to start keeping better track of where everyone is, can’t be too careful these days.  Perhaps I should talk with Shane about folks leaving in pairs or small groups, Glenn told us one of the last times he got back from a run that supplies in Atlanta were starting to thin out.  Oh well, I’m rambling and I’m sure you’d like to get on with your hunt.  You be careful out there, alright?  Just one more thing son, Glenn is taking a small group to Atlanta in two days to scavenge a department store; Merle should be back by the time you get done with your hunt.”

 

He offered me a smile and patted my shoulder then wandered back to camp with his rifle slung over his shoulder. Truth be told I was pretty hungry and hash with some coffee did sound real good but that would just mean there’d be an expectation to give back.

 

Then it hit me out of nowhere.

 

_“You be careful out there, alright?”_

 

Didn’t matter if I was just going to work or out hunting or fishing for the weekend, Claire would always ask me to be careful. I never understood why she said it, just thought it was one of those things she picked up from her mom.  After the divorce I fell back in with the junkies Merle hung around with.  They never cared about the kinda shit they got into just as long as they got their high.  Hell, Merle didn’t give two shits about whether or not I was alright when his tweaker pal punched me in the gut and I started puking.

 

Fucking assholes laughed their asses off at me.

 

Guess I gotta be careful these days, if it ain’t Walsh trying to knock us off it’ll be one of those biters.

 

Snubbing out the butt against the tree I got to my feet and stretched my sore limbs out; joints feel like a damn bowl of Rice Krispies getting dowsed in milk…

 

…Snap, crackle, pop.

 

When things couldn’t get any looser I started off in search of anything that could sustain a group for more than a day. Spit roasted squirrel would only last for a day at most but a deer (or something just as big) would last us a week. Maybe the old man would let me borrow his boat and poles to do some fishing when I got back.

 

Two fucking days and ain’t caught jack shit! No squirrel, no rabbit, sure as fuck ain’t no damn deer running ‘round these parts!  No doubt Merle’s already left for Atlanta with that group of bumbling idiots, just hope he can keep his racist ass in check though it ain’t likely.  Knowing my luck they’d come back without him…come up with some excuse to leave him out there.  Hell, Merle’s done a lot of stupid shit over the years but he ain’t dumb enough to get bit.

 

My third day hunting was starting out just like the last two, empty and dismal. I was up before the ass-crack of dawn to try and get early start on something, whatever it may be.  The camp was probably a good mile or two off to my right and the water was about the same distance to my left.  What little I did find during my first two days was just enough to make a few small meals out of, weren’t nothing worth bringing back (rattlesnake jerky ain’t gonna feed 20 people).

 

It was going on mid-morning (‘bout 10-10:30 if I had to guess) before I came across any real sign of something worth going after. To the untrained eye it looked like just a small pile of debris but anyone who spent a lot of time out in the woods would know it was acorn shells.

 

Squirrels, and lots of ‘em.

 

Carefully I pulled my bow off my shoulder, making sure there was an arrow ready to go, then proceeded to follow the scattered remains until I found what I was looking for the last couple of days. I ain’t gonna say it was a hunter’s paradise but four or five squirrels running around like it was mating season was enough to put me in a bit of a better mood (folks back at camp ain’t gonna starve).  Ain’t gonna lie, took a lot longer than I thought it would to get those wily fuckers but they’re all strung up now.

 

The rest of my day progressively got better, got about dozen or so squirrels before I was ready to call it a day. That was when I spotted it ducking its head to the ground.  As the image before me got clearer I could see that it was a nice-sized buck; its ear twisted and turned like it was straining to hear something.  I hoped, and even said a quick prayer, that nothing would spook it or that it caught a whiff of me if the wind happened to be at my back.  As quietly as I could I raised my bow and took aim.

 

Inhale through the nose, exhale (slowly) through the mouth.

 

_FUCK!_

Should’ve known my luck wouldn’t last very long.

 

Something definitely spooked the damn deer and now it’s got an arrow in the ass and suffering. I quickly yanked another arrow from the quiver and got it ready.  That arrow was gonna slow it down considerably and no doubt that deer was gonna suffer a slow death if I didn’t find it and put it out of its misery.  Taking a small leap over a fallen log, I found the deer’s tracks and followed them in the direction they went off in.

 

Fucker was gonna me track it down for miles.

 

It was just going on nightfall when I found the damn thing again. Part of its body was leaning up against a tree and it was panting pretty heavily.  Dried blood was evident on the haunch where the arrow had gone in and I knew that this second shot was gonna have to count if I didn’t want it to suffer anymore.

 

Again I made sure that I had my arrow ready and closed the distance slowly and quietly. I was just a mere 50 yards away with my aim on the side of the animal’s chest; pointed at the side where the heart and lungs were hoping this would be the final shot.

 

Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth.

 

My luck (and my aim) can’t be _that_ fucking bad!

 

It was real quiet, nothing could’ve possibly caused it take off again!

 

How wrong I was. My arrow landed just below the other one in the same leg and the wind started rustling against my back as I dropped my bow in frustration.  But I ain’t giving up on this fucking deer, Dixons don’t quit just like that when their dinner’s on the line.  As I stepped out into the clearing to locate the direction it took off in I found that the tracks were circling back around towards camp.  If I was able to get it with a third shot it wouldn’t be very difficult to drag its dead ass back by the horns.

 

Unfortunately for me, it was growing dark and I was gonna have to stop my search for the night. These squirrels weren’t gonna stay very fresh for too much longer and since there ain’t an ice chest or ice maker to be found I’d have to rely on redneck ingenuity.

 

It was rough growing up with Will Dixon for a father and the only thing he ever taught me, other than how to hunt, was how to keep your meat from rotting. My first hunting trip with my old man was when I was six, Will was so focused on making sure he had enough beer to get him through that weekend that he completely neglected to buy any ice.  Naturally he blamed it on me and whooped my ass as hard as he could but that was to be expected.

 

My granddaddy had a cabin that we’d occasionally stay at; it had one of those old fridges you’d see in the silent black and white movies. Granddaddy would call it an ice box, being the stupid kid that I was I asked why he’d call it that.  After he slapped me, my granddaddy said that they didn’t have the types of things we do now; they’d have to pay someone to deliver a block of ice just about every week to keep things cold.  Only reason he kept it was because he thought that it’d be worth something one day.  After he died, we just kept it in the cabin and bring a sack of ice with us when we went hunting.  Did a good job of keeping shit cold but we didn’t get to use it as often as I would’ve like to.

 

Will’s idea of keeping meat cold was letting it sit in the stream overnight with the water running over it.

 

Well, I ain’t got a stream but I got a quarry full of water. No doubt there’s fish in it, just hope it’s cool enough to keep these squirrels from going bad, it’s a damn shame I’m gonna have to let that deer go until morning when I could try to pick up the trail again.  Hate to let it suffer like this with a couple of arrows in its leg but it’s just too dangerous to be tracking that thing down these days.  I’ll admit, the dark left me a little disoriented but eventually I came across something familiar and was able to get down to the water after an hour or two.

 

Approaching the water’s edge I was thankful that it was quiet (mostly). I could barely make out the faint reds and oranges of the fire that I know was coming from camp for a few seconds before they disappeared into the night.  I dropped the squirrels in the shallows and took up residence against a large rock that hid me from view should any biters come wandering out.

 

Despite the heat of the day it was cooling off surprisingly fast for this time of year, especially in Atlanta. Letting my head fall back against the rock I let the cold surface begin to cool down my heated skin.  Times like this make me wish I was back home with her in the air conditioning chowing down on Chinese food.  Every once in a while I’d let myself relax and start dozing off but then a laugh would penetrate the silence and it’d put me on high alert.

 

Sun probably wasn’t up for an hour before I was jarred from a sleep I didn’t know I was in. Rushing to the water I scooped up the squirrels and high-tailed it into the woods.  Staying out of sight I caught sight of Shane’s jeep screeching to a stop and him hopping out with a blue container for water.  He adjusted his cap in frustration as he bent down.

 

Won’t lie, with his back to me I was tempted to just put an arrow through his skull but if I did that his bitch would be all over my ass.

 

I crept back further into the woods to see if I could find the deer’s track and see if I could finally put it down. Scanning the ground for signs of life, I managed to pick up on the animal’s trail and followed it (and the blood trail) in circles for the better part of an hour.  It was limping into a clearing, exhausted and ready to drop dead at any moment.  Taking a third arrow from the quiver, I notched it into place and let it loose before anything else could go horribly wrong.

 

They say that the third time’s the charm and it was the case with this deer. This third arrow found its mark in the animal’s chest and as expected it took off towards camp.  With this final arrow it wouldn’t be long before it was finally dead.  Stepping out from the brush I quickly located the deer’s tracks and paused for a moment to take another arrow from the quiver.  Securing the arrow between my teeth, I put my bow on the ground and pulled the string back until I heard it click.  Once the arrow was in place I started trekking quietly through the woods on the lookout for my deer or anything else that happened across my path.

 

A scream in the distance had me going back towards camp but I was in no hurry since there were others that could take care of the problem, whatever it may be. I wanted my deer and the tracks I had been following for the better part of an hour were leading me in that direction anyway.  The closer I got to camp the more muffled voices I started hearing, including the old man stammering out something.

 

Since there were others and my deer was (undoubtedly) dead I didn’t see any harm in making as much noise as I wanted, what were they gonna do? Shoot me?

 

“Son of a bitch, that’s my deer,” as I stepped out of the trees a small group was gathered around it and a headless biter. Looks of uncertainty pointed in my direction as they lowered their weapons.  “Look at it all gnawed on by this filthy, disease-bearing, motherless, poxy bastard!”  Each word earned a boot in the biter’s side.

 

“Calm down son, that’s not helping.”

 

“What do you know about it old man? You take that stupid hat and go back to on Golden Pond.”

 

Turing back to the deer with a sigh of defeat, I ripped the trio of arrows from the carcass that now had its neck torn to shreds. I felt their eyes on me as I kept talking to no one in particular.

 

“Been tracking this deer for miles, drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think, think we could cut around this chewed up part right here?”

 

“Cannot risk that.” Was all the answer I got as Deputy Douche tucked his rifle behind his neck, his wrists hanging limply from either end.

 

“Damn shame, well I got us some squirrel ‘bout a dozen or so,” I started, dangling the string a bit, “that’ll have to do.”

 

Before I could start to lead the pack of dummies back to camp, the head on the ground sprung back to life; the jaw snapping open and shut the same time the cataract covered eyes seemingly blinked a little.

 

“C’mon people, what the hell?” Firing off an arrow into the eye socket it ceased its movements instantaneously.  Propping my foot against the skull I yanked the arrow out, wiping it against my pant leg.  “Gotta be the brain.  Don’t you know nothing?”

 

The camp was more alive than I’ve seen since before I left. Stepping over the string of cans me and Merle had strung up in the hours of our initial arrival I saw a couple of fresh faces; one being a Chinaman by Shane’s jeep, the other a kinda lanky guy in a white shirt with a five o’clock shadow and the cleanest pair of jeans I’d ever seen in my life.

 

“Merle! Merle!  Get your ugly ass out here!  Got us some squirrel, stew ‘em up!”  Gingerly, I propped my bow against the growing wood pile and let a handful of arrows drop next to it.  I continued on my path to our tent until Shane stopped me.

 

“Daryl, slow up a bit I need to talk to you.”

 

Turning in the direction his voice came from I noticed his hand rubbing nervously against his lip.

 

“’Bout what?”

 

“’Bout Merle. There’s a, uh, there’s a problem in Atlanta.”

 

The air around us was being sucked dry and was replaced with a palpable tension, like they were waiting to see how I’d react. Glancing all around I saw the fear and uncertainty in their eyes.  The way Shane put his hands on his hips and the way he kept turning his head had my suspicions growing by the second.  The string of squirrels slid down my arm as I waited for him to tell me exactly what the “problem” was.

 

“He dead?”

 

“Not sure.”

 

“He ‘ither he is or he ain’t!” I was ready to close in on Shane when another voice stopped me.  Turning, I saw the one with the white shirt approach me like he was the new sheriff in town.

 

“No easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.”

 

“Who are you?” He was standing side by side with Deputy Douche as he spoke.

 

“Rick Grimes.”

 

“Rick Grimes? Got something you wanna tell me?”  Too damn early for my blood to be boiling like this and now I got two of these fuckers trying to make my day even worse?

 

“Your brother was a danger to us all so I handcuffed him on a roof hooked into a piece of metal. He’s still there.”

 

“Hold on,” I started, wiping a bit of sweat from my eye, “lemme process this.” Spinning a finger around my head. “Ya sayin’ you handcuffed my brother to a roof? _AND YOU LEFT HIM THERE?_ ”

 

“Yeah.”

 

All I got was a simple ‘yeah’ from this piece of shit. Ain’t even fucking noon yet and my temper reached its limit for the day.  In a fit of rage I threw my squirrels at this Rick Grimes and started to charge him but I should’ve known Shane would be there to prevent that.  He blindsided me when his shoulder collided with mine, knocking me on my ass.  In retaliation, I did the only thing I could think to do: yanked my knife from its holster, sunk down low, and prepared for a fight.

 

I was swinging wildly at this Rick Grimes before he caught my arm, Deputy Douche was there to catch the other. Before I knew what was happening the knife was knocked from my hand and I was on my ass with Shane on top of me.

 

“Okay, okay.”

 

“Best lemme go!” I hollered, still struggling.

 

“Nah, I think it’s better if I don’t.”

 

“Choke-holding’s illegal!”

 

“Hey, file a complaint.” I continued to struggle against Shane as he applied more pressure to my neck to keep me subdued.  “C’mon now, can keep this up all day.”

 

“I’d like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Think we can manage that?” When I refused to answer he asked again, “think we can manage that?”

 

From the corner of my eye I saw him nod to Shane and I was finally released, rather I was tossed to my back. The way the two looked at each other I knew they must’ve known each other before shit hit the fan.  Maybe this was the buddy he alluded to that got him that job in King County when Shane wanted Claire to move with him.

 

“What I did was not on whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others.”

 

“It’s not Rick’s fault. I had the key, I dropped it.”

 

“Couldn’t pick it up?”

 

“Well I dropped it down a drain.”

 

It quickly sunk in that Merle was most likely dead and the last memory I was gonna have of my brother is his fist meeting my face from the last argument we got into. The only thing I really had to keep my going now was the thinnest shred of hope that Claire was out there, somewhere alive (hopefully.)

 

Picking myself up off the ground, I quickly let my sorrow pass and let my hand gather something up that wasn’t that dick’s throat.

 

“Supposed to make me feel better it don’t.”

 

“Maybe this will.” I paused momentarily letting this nigger plead his case. “I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn’t get at him with a padlock.”

 

“That’s gotta count for something.”

 

Looking around I saw their faces, each one wearing the same look. They didn’t give two shits about my brother and they were all willing to just write him off like he was disposable or something.

 

“Hell with all y’all! Just tell me where he is, so’s I can go get him.”

 

“He’ll show you, isn’t that right?”

 

Rick nodded in her direction and pressed on, his hands on his hips. “I’m going back.”

 

Not knowing what else to do I left the squirrels abandoned on the ground, collected by bow and arrows and sat my ass on a stump near the fire pit, mentally preparing myself for just about anything that could go wrong. What if the geeks broke through that chain and padlock?  What if Merle cooked to death on that roof?  What if he was still alive?  Too many ‘what if’s’ and not enough booze.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey all and happy Walking Dead Day! I know it's been quite a while since I last updated this story however I've been working two jobs and putting in about 50 a week so my writing time has been cut down quite a bit. The time that I have had to write has been sporadic at best but I'm hoping that with the few days off I have this coming week that I could crank out another chapter soon. For those wondering where Claire is, I promise she'll be making an appearance in the near future. Let me know your thoughts on the way out.

** Chapter 4 **

****

_“One of these days one or both of you are gonna end up dead; ya gotta stop doing stupid shit like this so damn much! I ain’t asking for neither of you to change who you are but I am asking that you lay off the drugs.”_

_“I’ve been cutting back! The hell you want me to do next?  Quit drinking?”_

_“Anger management would be a more acceptable alternative but if you wanna quit drinking that one’s on you. Daryl, I know you’ve been cutting back, and I appreciate that, I just wish your effort and hard work would rub off on Merle.  Do you have any idea how…un-nerving it is to have a tweaker park their ass on my porch and just start shooting heroine like it was nothing while you two were out and about?”_

_“Call the cops?”_

_“Yeah, Roger picked him up. Guy said he was waiting for Merle to get back.  I just don’t want to see either of you in an early grave because of drugs.”_

_“Look here missy, I ain’t gonna just lay in this damn bed and listen to you shoot a bunch of crap outta your mouth. You ain’t a real Dixon, ya ain’t gonna tell us what to do or how to live our lives.  If we wanna do something then dammit, we’re gonna do it, damn the consequences.  I’ll concede and tell the others never to go back to your nice, little love shack, but I ain’t quitting for nothing or nobody.  The day I do Hell better have froze over.”_

_The three of us were gathered in a room of the hospital surrounding a bed Merle was laid up in. He OD’d again and Claire found him on the kitchen floor; she had just gotten home from work.  She was a wreck when I got the call, she was crying so damn much I couldn’t understand a damn word she was saying, it was nothing short of dumb luck that I managed to pick out the words “Merle,” “overdose,” and “hospital.”  After that one of the guys working on him got on the line and told me which hospital they were taking him to._

_By the time I got to the hospital, doctors were working on getting him stabilized and Claire was trying to think straight enough to fill out his admission papers. An hour ago we were put into a room and waited for someone to tell us what the hell was going on.  Claire sure as shit wasn’t any help, tried to get an answer from her and all she did was sit there in a shaking stupor._

_“He’s still in critical condition but the prognosis is looking better than when he first got here,” the doctor came in with a chart, closing the door behind ‘em._

_“The hell happened? I was at work and she ain’t no help.”_

_“Mr. Dixon, you can’t really blame her for being in such a state of shock. From what I was able to ascertain she found your brother, dead, on the kitchen floor with a needle in his arm and a strap wrapped around his upper arm.  It may be a sight you’re accustomed to seeing but not everyone has had the pleasure of being greeted by a dead body when they get home from work.”_

_Man, I feel like a dick…_

_“If anything, you owe her a sincere apology later when you leave for cocking an attitude like that. We’re going to be moving your brother to a room in the next hour or so once he fully stabilizes.  My suggestion to you, get him into a good rehab facility and make sure he stays there until he’s completed the program.”_

_The doctor left the room before I could get a word in edge-wise and left the door open, more or less telling us that we needed to leave the conference room and play the waiting game. That dickhead did make a couple of good points: 1) Claire does deserve some sort of apology on my part and 2) Merle does need to get into rehab.  Problem is, is that he has to want to quit._

_Here we are, an hour and two cardiac needles to the heart later, sitting in a white-walled room of a hospital that’s more than familiar with Merle’s drug history. Merle was sitting up in bed, basking in all the attention the nurses were giving him, proudly showing off the burn marks leftover from where they used the paddles on him._

_“Did they tell ya I died on the table twice? Used them paddles and shocked my ass back from the dead, third time jammed them real long needles in my heart?  Guess Nikki Sixx had it right when he wrote that song.  What was it called again?”  It was damn quiet not even the crickets were making noise.  “C’mon Claire, humor me!”_

_“Kickstart my heart. This really isn’t funny Merle.”_

_Of course Merle had to find something to laugh about in a situation like this; he always needed something to laugh at no matter what the situation was. Thank God we were all saved by her phone ringing.  She got up from her chair, phone in hand, and left the room with the door slamming shut behind her._

_“The hell crawled up her ass?”_

_“Not everyone is used to finding a dead body on the floor when they get home. Thought ya said you’d quit doing that shit in the house?  We give you the food off our table and this is how ya thank us?!  Don’t ev-”_

_“Don’t you start on me now little brother otherwise you’re gonna end up in the bed next to me, understand? ‘Sides you ought to know me better than that; was only saying that shit so that bitch would quit crawling up my damn ass.  She’s worse than mom ever was or maybe you don’t remember.”_

_“I remember running home after seeing the fire trucks drive past us and watching the house go up in flames like a piece of dried out wood. I remember them pulling mom’s body outta the house; they tried to get me to look away but I saw what was left of her.  That’s what I remember about mom.  Ya ever think that maybe mom was on ya to quit ‘cause she didn’t want ya to end up like Will?  Ya ever think Claire’s on your ass ‘cause she don’t ever wanna see ya like that again?  Damn doc’s got a point, it ain’t normal for people to just find a dead body on the kitchen floor.  Can’t say how many times I came home and found ya passed out, close to dead, or actually dead on the couch with a needle in your arm.  Shit ain’t right!  I shouldn’t have to come home to that after a long day!  And ya need to quit with all this bullshit about Claire not being a real Dixon.  We ain’t married, ain’t ever gonna be so just fucking quit!”_

_Neither of us ever heard the doorknob turning or sound of door clicking shut, we were too busy screaming at each other to even notice that Claire had come back into the room. Her back was to the door as she quietly observed the shouting match we were engaged in._

_“One of these days one of you is gonna wind up dead and the other will have no one to lean on. All the booze and drugs in the world will only ever be enough to numb the pain.  When you sober up, you’ll realize that you’re all alone in this world and the one person who actually gave a fuck about the Dixon boys will have left a long time ago._

_“Don’t say a fucking word Merle! Daryl, if you wanna keep breathing you shut your fucking mouth too!  I ain’t trying to be a Dixon, sure as shit ain’t asking to be one.  All I’m asking is that while you were guests in my house that you respect my rules.  Merle, your shit will be in the yard when you get out, don’t ever plan on coming back.  Daryl, you wanna go running back to the trailer park with him, I’ll set your things out too.  I didn’t force you to move in with me, I gave you a choice because I knew you didn’t want to be there in the first place.  I’m going home, the two of you think about what I said.”_

_“How ya getting back?”_

_“I got two feet, I can walk. I know my way home.”_

_“Shouldn’t be out there by yourself this time of night.”_

_“Not the first time I’ve walked home by myself this time of night.”_

 

If I knew how right she was all those years ago I wouldn’t have let her walk out of the hospital by herself. She put both mine and Merle’s shit out on the lawn, changed the locks, and wouldn’t speak to me for weeks.  When she’d come into the shop all she did was grunt, guess that was one of those quirks she got from me.

 

Here I am, sitting in the back of some box truck with a cop, a Chinaman, and a nigger. Using one of the rags I took from the shop I continued wiping blood off the arrows just to keep my hands busy.  However, the closer we got to Atlanta, the more anxious I got.  Who’s to say that Merle was even still alive on that rooftop after baking in the sun all day yesterday?  Sons of bitches probably didn’t even leave him any water.

 

The truck was slowly coming to a stop after a long, bumpy ass ride. Riding over the train tracks was just making the pounding in my head worse.  There was a 50-50 chance that Merle was either dead or alive.

 

“He better be okay, that’s my only word on the matter.”

 

“I told you, the geeks can’t get at him. Only thing that’s gonna get through that door is us.”

 

Somehow though, I didn’t believe a word of what he was saying. Wiping some of the sweat away from my lips, the Chinaman caught my attention as he shut the truck off saying that we’d walk from the tracks.  Throwing open the door I hopped out and jogged down the tracks with the others in tow with only one mission in mind despite the cop’s need for some bag of guns he dropped.

 

“Merle first or guns?”  


“Merle! We ain’t even having this conversation!”

 

“We are! You know the geography, it’s your call.”

 

“Merle’s closest, the guns’ll be doubling back. Merle first.”

 

At least the Chinaman’s got the right idea, can’t believe that stupid prick would think about his worthless bag of guns over my brother! Nowadays people are more important than guns, you need people to make sure the dead stay dead.  Popping off rounds left and right will just cause a bunch of unwanted attention.

 

First they handcuff my brother to a roof, then they fucking leave him there, now they think guns are more important?

 

Can this day get any fucking worse?

 

It wasn’t that hard locating the department store, if there were any geeks in there from yesterday they had mostly cleared out or lost interest. We got in through the back; guess when they backed the truck up to the roll-top doors they just left ‘em open and got the hell out of there as quick as they could.  Sneaking through the first floor with these three morons was easier than I thought it’d be.  The cop, when he spotted one, held up his hand to stop the group then pointed the one out to me.

 

“Damn, you are one ugly skank.” Raising the bow I fired off a shot between the eyes before it could take another step forward, watching as it fell backwards before quickly retrieving the arrow, wiping the blood on my pant leg.

 

We followed the Chinaman throughout the store until we go to the stairwell leading to the roof. It didn’t matter who had the bolt cutters, all that mattered was getting the lock off and making sure Merle was still alive.  All I could see was a hand yank the broken chain down as I raised my foot to kick the door open.

 

“Merle! Merle!”  All that was left was a hand, he was gone and I was alone.  “No!  No!”  Looking back at the other three I knew they had to feel some kind of guilt for what they did to my brother.  It was _their_ fault that my brother’s gone.

 

I did what I could to keep from crying knowing that if Merle could see me now he’d be cackling his damn head off at me. Either that or calling me a damn pussy and to quit my boo-hoo’ing.  This must be what Claire meant all those years ago when she said that we only had each other.  Merle was unstoppable, nobody could kill him except him.

 

Nobody.

 

_“One of these days one of you is gonna wind up dead and the other will have no one to lean on. All the booze and drugs in the world will only ever be enough to numb the pain.  When you sober up, you’ll realize that you’re all alone in this world and the one person who actually gave a fuck about the Dixon boys will have left a long time ago.”_

As I stood on the rooftop of an abandoned store my grief suddenly turned to rage and I did the only thing I could think to do. Pointing my bow at the face of the man who dropped the damn key, my finger twitched against the trigger as my brain fought to tell me it was the wrong thing to do.  A gun cocking against the side of my own head had me shifting my attention to the cop.

 

“I won’t hesitate. I don’t care if every walker in the city hears it.”

 

Dropping the bow I stole a moment for myself before I spoke knowing full well if I didn’t I’d say something I’d probably regret later on.

 

“You got a doo-rag or something?” He produced a blue one and I took it from him without much fuss.  Another shaky breath let loose as I dropped to one knee to pick up what was left of my brother. 

 

“I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuffs.” Picking his hand up by the pinky, I carefully inspected the cut.  “Ain’t that a bitch.”  Once his hand was safely wrapped up, I motioned for the Chinaman to turn around, stuffing the hand into his bag.  Picking up my bow I saw the blood trail leading away from the pipe.  “He must’ve used a tourniquet, maybe his belt.  There’d be much more blood if he didn’t.”

 

Following the trail towards another door, I stepped through, poking my head around a row of lockers to make sure it was clear. The stairs were just within view and once on the landing I peered over the edge to see if anyone or anything could be found.

 

“Merle! You in here?!”

 

Silence.

 

I continued talking the scenario out, trying to figure out what he did and how he did it. It didn’t matter if the others heard me or not, it was all I could do to keep from tearing someone’s head off.  We swept through the halls, clearing away the geeks as we happened upon them.

 

“Had enough in him to take these two son of a bitches. One-handed.  Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother.  Feed him a hammer, he’d crap out nails.”

 

“Any man can pass out from blood loss, no matter how tough he is.”

 

Our journey through the department store led us from the rooftop through some office space (probably belonging to some jackass in a suit) and through the kitchens. It was the smell that caught our attention most of all.

 

“Merle!”

 

“We’re not alone here. Remember?”

 

“Screw that. He could be bleeding out, you said so yourself.”

 

His belt and some burners were lit but the smell? God that smell brought back horrible memories of mom.  It’s sometimes easy to forget how badly burnt the house was when the fire department finally put it out but I’ll never forget how bad mom’s body smelled when they pulled it from the crumbling structure.  The hair on her head was singed however the smell of burnt flesh had my stomach turning, so much so that I ended up puking in the grass.

 

Here it is again, staring me in the face only this time it was Merle’s skin stuck to some kind of press, maybe a bacon press to help keep it flat while they were frying it.

 

“What’s that burnt stuff?”

 

Leave it to the Chinaman to ask a stupid question…

 

“Skin.”

 

Ding, ding, ding, right again Officer Friendly. At least someone in this group has half a brain.

 

“He cauterized the stump.”

 

“Told ya he was tough, ain’t nobody can kill Merle ‘cept Merle.”

 

“Don’t take that on faith, he’s lost a lot of blood.”

 

“Yeah?” I started, noticing that the window to my left was broken out, “didn’t stop him from busting outta this death trap.”

 

“He left the building? Why the hell would he do that?”

 

Leaning against the open window I looked out on the alley below and notice that it was free from walkers. Any noise he made in breaking the glass either wasn’t enough to attract any further attention or he took ‘em out on his way outta here.  The bloody rag laying against the ledge, he probably used that to help suppress the sound of the glass breaking, and to protect his fresh stump.  Son of a bitch is probably hurting bad, adrenaline can only take you so far.

 

“Why wouldn’t he? He’s out there alone as far as he knows.  Doing what he’s gotta do, surviving.”  Pushing away from the ledge I led the way from the kitchen, a sense of urgency rushing into my veins as the need to find him became greater.

 

“You call that surviving? Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passing out?  What are his odds out there?”

 

“No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks.” I turned to Officer Friendly as he continued to keep his silence.  “You couldn’t kill ‘im.  Ain’t so worried about some dumb, dead bastard.”

 

“What about a thousand dumb, dead bastards? Different story?”

 

“Why don’t you take a tally? Do what you want.  I’mma go get ‘im.”

 

That’s when I snapped. I tried to move past Officer Friendly so I could go find Merle, I was a man on a mission so to speak and the asshole had the nerve to put his hands on me.  Claire had it right when she said that one of these days it’d just be me and him.  I lost her and I wasn’t about to lose my brother.

 

Even if he did call me a pussy afterwards.

 

“Daryl wait.”

 

“Getcha hands off me! You can’t stop me!”

 

“I don’t blame you. He’s family, I get that; I went through hell to find mine.  I know exactly how you feel.  He can’t get far with that injury, we can help you check a few blocks around _only_ if we keep a level head.”

 

“I can do that.” I conceded.

 

Then he looked at _him_ as he leaned up against the wall, still can’t believe he came here.  Hell, if Merle were still on that roof and saw him, I’d be willing to bet that he’d rip Officer Friendly’s gun from his holster and shoot him between the eyes.  He’d probably bring every geek in the city down on us for it but he’d be justified in what he did.

 

“Only if we get those guns first, I’m not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, okay?”

 

Good intentions my ass! Claire had good intentions when she gave me a job, put food in my stomach, and a roof over my head.  But this guy?  What the fuck were his good intentions?  Leave a man, my brother, handcuffed to a roof and let him bake to death then hope that I’d be understanding and prepared to forgive him?

 

Fuck that shit!


End file.
